


Ghosts

by Vince_ible



Series: Happy Endings [3]
Category: Invincible (Image Comics)
Genre: Angst, Canon Continuation, Gen, Harm to Children, Mentors, Superhero antics, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-01-15 08:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21250649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vince_ible/pseuds/Vince_ible
Summary: Set shortly after the "Marky Section" in #144.In the early days of his career, Kid-Invincible continues to meet with the modern Guardians of the Globe. At the same time he encounters a seemingly revived Guardian, one who died on the darkest day of his family's past.Somehow he manages to befriends them all.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Can't imagine this one being any longer than 20k-40k words but I've been wrong before.

**Prologue  
**

* * *

Even with the graveyard's lights, the night was dark.

Two silhouettes shuffled through the blackness. One had a wheelbarrow, and the other carried two shovels. They approached the largest plot like furtive animals. More than one body was buried here, and all belonged to someone important. The tombstone towered above them, more of a monument than a marker. In a manner most violent, the spade of a shovel stabbed through the grass and grit. The first incision made the man in the rear flinch, head twitching over his shoulder for any witnesses.

Throughout the night they worked, carting dirt to and from the group-grave. The first kept a constant watch, while the second tended to the ever-growing hole. They'd hoped to have more men to help with the excavation, but the boss' orders were clear. He believed fewer men assigned to this job would raise less suspicion.

Nobody dared to question a boss who could quite literally bite your head off.

Hours passed and the hole grew deeper. It was like an open wound, a gaping, unhealed scab amidst the gravestones. Sweat streamed down the men's faces, and soil caked their clothes, but still they endured. They were making good progress.

Soon a shovel hit something hard. A clang rang out, alerting the other man to their milestone. He dropped down beside his partner to assist in this frantic, final stretch. Dirt flew over their shoulders in a frenzy and a shovel jammed into the coffin to pry it open.

There was a long, loud creak. Dust billowed straight into the air and up the gravediggers' noses. As they were choking and coughing, something inside the coffin began to glow. Green light bled from the body, rotted down to the bone, and onto the wood. Blinded and sputtering, the men took a simultaneous step back.

Suddenly the night was no longer so dark.


	2. Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boring boring boring stuff. Set up. Yawn.

**Introductions**

* * *

"Marky?"

A swear slipped out from Marky's lips. Horrified, he clapped a hand over his mouth as if to contain the word, but it was too late to take it back. The damage had been done.

"Marky?! Are you still up there?" Scott shouted up the staircase.

Marky wheezed at the first creak from the stairs. Right now his last hope was his super-speed. His straightened his hair in half a second, opting to skip on the teeth. Sacrifices had to be made in this superhero business, and sometimes those sacrifices included bad breath. Maybe he could bum some gum off of a friend. He'd fallen asleep in his costume, so rather than changing, he gathered a last-minute change of clothes and dumped them in his backpack.

The doorknob started turning. Marky choked and stood petrified, though he managed to keep moving through his panic. In the nick of time, he sprang out his open window so that the door swung open to an empty room.

"You're supposed to be at school young-! ...Man?"

On the outer wall, two stories up, Marky held his breath. His palms lay flat on the wall and his eyes pricked with early-morning tears. Inside he heard his dad pivot, sigh, and approach the window. Marky waited with dread for him to stick his head outside and spot him, but instead the window slammed shut. Hardly believing his luck, Marky sagged down the side of the house.

This was Marky's fourth time this week breaking curfew. In his defence, he'd found that he needed a lot less sleep than a human. Even so, his sleep schedule was screwed. If his dad had found out he'd slept in _again_, he would've surely killed him. Actually, he would've just suspended costume privileges, but that was about as bad.

Once his paralysis wore off, Marky yanked on his mask, slung his backpack over his shoulders, and took off. Below him the bus he'd missed rumbled down the road. He caught up and overtook it effortlessly, smug in the fact that his peers were stuck in that crowded tin-can, moving at a snail's pace. Not him though. If Marky had his way, he would never willingly board a bus again.

Sometimes Marky wondered if someone would spot him up here, following the bus to and from school. After his first few weeks of superheroics, he realized those worries were folly. Nobody ever looked up.

Marky moved at a languid pace, arriving in the schoolyard some five minutes before the buses. Quick as could be, he took cover behind his favourite tree and stuffed his gloves, boots, and mask in his bag. Then, once his civilian clothing was over the remainder of his costume, he lounged in a top, thick branch of that same tree. It wasn't an ideal system, but it worked in a pinch for the time being.

That was how his friends found him, sprawled back in the tree as he was wont to do.

"Dude! Your dad drove you early again? Lucky!" said Ben.

Marky and Ben knew each other through their youngest siblings, who shared a friendship similar to their own. Beside him stood his foster sister, Ruby, whom Marky had met in turn through Ben. Both were in the same grade as Marky. Ben was blond, tall, and buff for his age, but was more of a lovable dope than a jock. It wasn't uncommon to find him with his nose in a book, and Marky had lent him some of his comics on more than one occasion. Ruby was African-American, wore glasses, and could play volleyball better than anybody. Marky had immediately been drawn to their patchwork family, since in many ways, it reminded him of his own.

Ruby craned her head to catch a glimpse of Marky, saying, "I don't know how you manage to climb that high."

"Skills," snickered Marky, sliding down the trunk. To most people he was still the shy, diffident boy he'd always been, but around his friends he could afford to be cocky.

A giddy grin crossed Ben's face. "Did you hear about that new superhero?"

"Yeah, —" the warning bell drowned out the rest of Ruby's words. Following the crowd, the trio began to file inside. "What about him?"

"I just think it's cool that there's _another _one, with the same name, powers, and everything!"

A fuzzy warmth flooded Marky's brain and made his toes wiggle in his shoes. Flushing, he held the door open for his friends. "That Kid-Invincible guy _is _pretty cool..."

"Who?" said Ruby dubiously. "We're talking about Green Ghost, you doof!"

"_Who?_" Marky repeated. All at once the heat in his brain went from warm to blazing, and his face went blank. He was offended and intrigued all at once. Luckily it didn't take long for Ben to enlighten him.

"Green Ghost! He was one of the original Guardians, the ones that Omni-Man killed." An enraptured Marky had no problems hiding his flinch. "-But he's back now, and better than ever! My dad says he was his favourite as a kid."

"People don't just come back from the dead, Ben..." said Ruby.

"Says you. It's superheroes! You never know. I heard Darkwing is alive again."

Marky bit back a sour remark. Oh sure, they knew about the whole Darkwing thing, but Kid-Invincible's involvement didn't ring any bells? Some things burned worse than a fire or a stove.

They had first period together in Ms. Garcia's class. All three of them separated to find their seats. Ruby was situated nearby, in the back, but Ben's desk was across the room. Marky slumped in his seat, chewing the inside of his cheek and musing to himself.

"Green Ghost, huh...?"

* * *

**/**

* * *

Green Ghost.

Marky must've overlooked him in his frequent scourings on the internet. When he wasn't in school or in-costume, he was often googling stuff about his dad and grandpa. Not Scott, but his other dad. The one in space.

In general, the original Guardians were a huge blindspot in his research. Though he would never know him, Marky hated thinking of his grandpa as anything other than a nice man, and the things people said about him on forums were anything but. Just because Omni-Man had made an awful mistake, didn't mean Marky had to delve deeply into every detail. He knew the basics about that period, and that was enough.

Until now.

Suddenly the first team seemed all the more relevant. For a time there'd been a second War Woman running around, then the recent "resurrection" of Darkwing, and now history was repeating itself. He resolved himself to finding out more as soon as possible.

During recess Marky managed to extract some more information from his friends. Apparently the new Green Ghost had been spotted all along the east coast, and sometimes in their own state. His friends couldn't believe that this was the first he'd heard of it, but Marky wasn't all that surprised. These days he was too busy to keep up on the news.

The computer lab wasn't much help to him. Nobody could identify the Green Ghost postmortem, and no family members reported him missing. He'd died as he lived, a green-coloured, humanoid being that was featureless otherwise. Equally mysterious as his identity were his powers. To this day, no one knew how they worked or the full extent of what he could do. This was less surprising. Most citizens didn't know how _any_ of their heroes' powers worked. Heck, Marky didn't know how his _own _powers worked half the time.

In any case, this Green Ghost character was outside his purview and seemingly outside his radar. Marky started to give up on the whole thing.

Weeks went by without much incident. Marky carried on as he usually did, attending school, playing with his sister, and fighting crime. He kept late hours, flying whenever his homework was done, then sneaking back to bed before his dad could notice. For the most part his dad freely gave his blessing and permission. What he was unaware of was that Marky sometimes only _seemed_ asleep. Once his dad was done checking on him, he would dart right back out the window and resume his night activities.

After one school day let out, Marky found himself hovering high in the sky, costumed and cradling his backpack against his chest. He squinted against the slant of the afternoon sun. It was strange to think that years ago, he'd been scared of flying. Now it was as easy as walking. Flying wasn't just a pastime—it was a part of him.

By this point Green Ghost had long since passed from his thoughts. The right thing to do would be to head straight home, but Marky had other plans. With a short whistle, he adjusted the backpack and began to patrol. He kept low to the ground, passing over towns and cities at speeds that would incapacitate most professional pilots.

For once, it didn't take long for him to find some excitement.

"Woah!" Marky pulled up so fast that he almost dropped his backpack. Below him was what looked like a man, though three or four times the size. He was so large that he was holding up traffic on either side of him. He sauntered through the middle of the road, flicking cars aside like they were flies. Even at this height Marky could hear the cacophony of honking horns.

As Marky got closer he was able to get a better picture of what he looked like. Concrete-like skin covered his body, smooth aside from the odd crack or two around his joints. Set against the dark grey were yellow dashes, like the dividing lines between lanes of traffic. These lines ran down his middle, one completely covering the center of his face. In one sharp motion, the man-shaped thing turned to look at Marky. His eyes were piercing, pure white and pupilless, deeply set into the stone of his face.

Before Marky could open his mouth, the creature had his ankle in his fist. "Little toothpick," he snarled, swinging the boy like a bat. Marky dimly registered the road crumbling beneath his body. A small crater was left indented in the pavement, vaguely shaped like himself. His backpack was a tattered pancake. It felt odd, like it _should've_ hurt, but somehow didn't. He didn't have long to contemplate the lack of pain.

Without letting go of that same ankle, the villain tossed him overhand into the sky. For a short distance Marky pinwheeled, yelping. Then he hastily righted himself, shaking bits of pavement from his hair. He was acting slow. _Sloppy. _The _real_ Invincible wouldn't have let the villain get the first blow in.

"Run away, runt. You're out of your weight class," his foe hollered up at him. "Who are you, anyway? You look familiar."

Marky wasn't all that surprised by this response. On occasion Kid-Invincible was known to foil local robberies or stop accidents at sea. His encounters with full-fledged villains were few and far between. This guy probably already knew that—it was evident from Marky's utter lack of experience.

From his safe, invisible perch, Marky threw some words down at him. "We've never met, ugly."

"Oh? That so?" seethed the monster. He casually picked up a car that was free of any passengers. "The name's _Gridlock._" On the last word of his introduction, Gridlock hurled the car straight at Marky.

This time Marky was prepared. No distractions, no second thoughts, no hesitating. He dove under the speeding projectile and caught it by its undercarriage. Something in the bottom of the car gave, and oil leaked all over Marky's mask. Ignoring it, Marky bulldozed into Gridlock with all the speed and strength available to him. The car crumpled like paper, crushed into an incomprehensible ball of metal parts and leather seats. By now the street was basically abandoned. Tires rolled down the road, bumping into leftover bits of the busted automobile. In the wake of this destruction, Gridlock still stood, as dangerous and as pissed as ever.

A fist flew at Marky. He ducked, boots hitting the ground. A second fist swooped overhead and he sidestepped to avoid it. On Gridlock's third, frustrated attempt, Marky caught his hand. White as they were, Marky detected the slightest hint of shock in Gridlock's eyes. With the same amount of effort used to lift a cushion, Marky heaved Gridlock over his head. He tumbled and rolled, sending cars skidding out of his path.

Even that wasn't enough to stop him. He recovered quickly, cursing up a storm. Trying to tame the pride in his chest, Marky zipped after him.

"What are you doing here anyway? Why trash people's property for no reason?"

"Mind your business."

Again Gridlock lunged for him, and Marky took the punch. Though he felt the air leave his lungs, there wasn't any actual pain. Gridlock recoiled like he'd hit a brick wall. Stone crumbled off his knuckles and wrist.

As intense as the situation was, Marky was having fun. Most of the civilians had been wise enough to flee, so Marky only had to worry about protecting himself. That task was easier than it sounded. Though Gridlock was strong, he posed no real threat to Marky. He was less of a danger and more of a hindrance, like an ant that simply refused to be crushed no matter how many times it was stomped.

Gridlock had begun to clue in to how hopeless this fight was. Marky may have been young, but he was tireless. Gridlock turned to run, kicking one last car at Marky as he did so. On an impulse Marky thrust out his hands as though to shove it away. As he unscrunched his eyes he could see the car lying on its side, in thirds.

In spite of his bulk, Gridlock could _move. _He'd booked it all the way to the intersection by the time Marky started his pursuit. Marky was faster still. He covered a whole block in seconds, but when he caught up, Gridlock was already down.

Gridlock laid in a heap, like an island in the middle of the road. A green, male figure stood over him, one foot propped up on his chin. Stunned, Marky landed at the foot of Gridlock to look upon this new person. The stranger wore no clothes and didn't appear to need them. The only evidence of physical features were the lighter, emerald contours that outlined his face and form. Otherwise he was completely covered in a monochromatic glow.

"Sorry," Green Ghost said to him, almost sheepishly. "I'm not too late, am I? Guess I'm still a bit green."

* * *

**/**

* * *

"Sorry? For what?!" Marky exclaimed. "That was wicked! What did you hit him with?"

"Trade secret," he snickered. "Besides, you did most of the heavy lifting, softening him up for me."

A sort of buzz ran through Marky like a sugar rush. It was the same feeling he got whenever his other dad dropped by for a visit, or when he'd first ran into the Guardians of the Globe. "Are you really Green Ghost? _The _Green Ghost?"

"Not the one who died," Green Ghost chuckled. "There's sorta been a lot of us. Tell you what, let's trade. I'll let you in on all the details if you tell me who you are."

"Oh!" Marky's ears burned as he realized he'd neglected to introduce himself. "Sorry. I'm Kid-Invincible. I just started."

Green Ghost's face gave nothing away in the facial department, but his voice betrayed a veiled interest. "Invincible, huh? There wouldn't happen to be any relation to..."

"You _knew _him?"

"No, not me. That was before my time. One of the Ghosts knew _his_ father."

"Grandpa," said Marky in an undertone of awe. He'd mostly been speaking to himself, but Green Ghost picked up on it anyway.

"Ah, see I _knew_ there was a relation! 'Real name's Nick, by the way. What's yours?"

"Um..."

All at once the mood shifted and Marky tensed. He was flattered that the man was so forthcoming with him, but he had no intentions of returning that trust. Not as readily, anyways. Like a spectre, his grandma's words rose to the forefront of his thoughts. _"Keep your name to yourself if you can," _she'd always said, and Marky wasn't about to ignore her advice.

"Whoops, sorry. Haven't gotten around the idea of these secret identities yet. You can call me Green," he remedied quickly. Marky's hesitance must've alerted him to the blunder. Second-hand embarrassment washed over Marky like a cold shower, and he did his best to banish the name "Nick" from his brain.

"While we're waiting for the authorities to show, why don't I explain all that I promised? You seem trustworthy enough, and this guy should be out for the duration," said Green, sitting on Gridlock as though he were an oversized stool.

"Are you sure?"

"It's no bother, kid. You're the first person I've been able to vent to about all this," Green assured him. His lack of concern was contagious, and Marky felt himself calming after the fight, mentally settling down for the story.

"It all started one Saturday. I was sitting on my ass, waiting for a pizza, when this... thing flew through my window. Jumped right through, like it was alive. Scared the shit out of me." Green stared into space, seemingly in his own little world.

A tad awkwardly, Marky coughed to reel him back to reality. "Thing?"

"Yeah. Some kind of necklace, just floating there. As if that wasn't bad enough, the damn thing flew down my throat, and that's how I ended up like this."

Beneath the lenses of his mask, Marky's eyes went as wide as saucers. He lifted a finger to interrupt, then lowered it when it went unnoticed. He felt like he was back at school, trying to pass off a raised hand as a stretch, nodding along with whatever nonsense his math teacher was spouting. Unaware of his audience's incredulity, Green pressed on.

"I started to see things, if you can believe it. Images. Memories that weren't mine. This amulet inside me, it's been around for a _long _time. The Green Ghost that had it last was only the most recent guy to, um, swallow it. He wasn't even the second, or the third, and he was Green Ghost for only a month before Omni-Man killed him.

"No one but the Guardians of the Globe knew about the source of Green Ghost's powers, so people just buried him as he was. That's why the amulet didn't just leave him. It laid dormant. The reason it's here _now_ is because someone dug up the old Ghost's body."

"Something like that should've been on the news," said Marky, shocked. Some people had to be real vultures to violate another's grave, and especially a high-profile hero's.

"Maybe the government covered it up. They've done it before. I don't know. It's just what the amulet told me after it was awakened."

"Why come to _you?_"

"Apparently the amulets only choose people that are um... worthy. Pure of heart and strong-willed. There's one for every planet with life."

"Pure of heart and strong-willed," commented Marky. "That's _you_?" He hadn't meant for his voice to sound so dubious. If Green took offence, he gave no indications of it.

"I guess so."

For a moment Marky just pondered and processed what he'd heard. Green's story was as fantastic as it was far-fetched, but somehow, Marky believed it all, believed _him._ There was a sincerity and an earnestness to his tale that couldn't be feigned. And anyway, the origin of Marky's own powers sounded pretty ridiculous when spoken aloud. Who was he to judge?

"That's very interesting, sir. Thank you for telling me."

"And thanks for listening," returned Green. "We're all in this together, right? Us newbies have to stick together."

This sentiment was so appealing that Marky started to smile. He'd been lonely as a solo-act, and it was comforting to know that there were people out there just as inexperienced as him, and furthermore, that some of them were full-grown adults. Maybe Mark had been lonely and unsure at one point, too. It was an exercise to imagine his dad as anything other than the confident leader of the Viltrumites, refined, reserved, and reclusive around Marky. But of course, everyone had been young and dumb, once upon a time.

Marky's smile didn't last. There was a low thrumming noise overheard that reverberated in his bones and pulsed against his eardrums. When he looked up, something with two wings and three engines greeted him. It blocked out the sun, and Marky spied three glowing circles on its underside. A logo like a giant globe sat on its frontmost nose.

Apparently the passengers inside were too impatient to wait for the ship to land, because shortly afterwards Marky spotted their fast-approaching figures. Six shapes fell to the ground, one alighting with feathered wings, three rolling with the fall, and two slamming feet-first onto the ground. _Pegasus, Wraith, Outrun, Best Tiger, Monax, Monster Girl._ Marky's heart hammered on each of their names.

"Step away from the avocado, kid," said a deep, guttural voice.

Monster Girl. Her eyes were thin slits, and her fists were twice the size of Marky's torso. On her left was Monax, equally as large if not larger. Marky knew this from experience—the antennaed monster had once held him one-handed.

Taken aback by the command, Marky took two steps back. Monster Girl's shout had been calm but stern. He didn't dare disobey. It was hard to get a read on Green, but Marky could've sworn that he looked surprised as well. He stayed composed, though, even as the Guardians swarmed to circle him.

"Avocado... is that a green joke? Because if so, you're not one to talk."

"You're under arrest," Monster Girl said, offering no other explanation. The statement was simple and short. "Please come quietly, for your own good."

"I didn't steal anything!" Green protested in a panicky voice.

Monster Girl's eyes narrowed further still. "I didn't say anything about stealing."

"It's not what you think, I promise."

"Then why have you been avoiding us? And what happened to Green Ghost's grave? Huh?" shot Outrun.

"I haven't been avoiding anyone. I'm just trying to do my part in this hero business."

Relentless, Monster Girl pressed on. "Then you'll have no issue coming with us so you can explain the whole story to our superiors."

There was a brief lull in the conversation, no longer than two seconds. It was at that moment that Marky chose to interject. He locked gazes with Green, eyes pleading. "Please just, go with them. If you tell them everything you told me I'm sure they'll understand."

They exchanged one last glance. Silence. Then, Green nodded briskly. "Alright. You guys can take me," he acquiesced, thrusting out his fists. Before Marky could blink Outrun had him cuffed.

"Thank you. Your cooperation is appreciated," droned Monster Girl. All of the aggression had faded from her voice, and with it, the excitement. Marky half-wondered if she might've _preferred _a fight. A peaceful resolution was swell and all, but probably boring to a veteran such as herself.

With the tension diffused, Monster Girl approached Marky. She stood over him like a gargoyle or a grotesque, and Marky was consciously aware of the shadow she cast across him. It was like the temperature had dropped two degrees. Contrasted with this chill was the warmth within her eyes. The warmth carried over into her voice as she spoke, "Thanks for that. I don't know how you managed to convince him so fast, but thanks."

"No problem. He's really not a bad guy if you get to know him, so go easy on him?"

Monster Girl shrugged her massive shoulders. "A lot of that will be up to him and how he behaves."

The rest of the Guardians were fast at work loading the unconscious Gridlock onto the aircraft they'd arrived in. It took two people pulling and two people pushing to budge him an inch. The progress was slow but steady. Meanwhile Wraith passively escorted Green up a ramp whilst Marky craned his head over Monster Girl to watch.

Half to herself, Monster Girl murmured, "He was just the distraction." The suddenness of her comment made Marky look at her sharply.

"A distraction?"

"This is his new M.O.: He endangers civilians while an accomplice does the dirty work," explained Pegasus, fluttering to Monster Girl's side. Evidently she wasn't much use with moving Gridlock. "Last time Gridlock started one of these little rampages, a bunch of jewellery shops were broken into around the same time. Then before that, a bank. No alarms were tripped, funnily enough, but I bet we'll get reports in the morning about some more stuff missing."

"And you have no idea who it was?" asked Marky.

"Not yet. It's a good thing you and that Green Ghost character were here this time around to catch Gridlock. Maybe we'll be able to get some information out of him about how he does it."

"That remains to be seen," said Monster Girl to Pegasus, almost snarkily. Without missing a beat, she turned the subject back to Marky. "You're from around these parts, right? Maryland?"

Marky shrank back from her penetrating gaze. "How did you-"

"Educated guess by one of our staff. You're operating too locally, Kid. Anyone with a brain could figure it out."

Marky took a small amount of comfort in the fact that she only knew his state, not his address, and furthermore, that she was a fellow superhero. No villain had managed to pinpoint his precise location... For now. That he knew of. _Hopefully._

"I guess I have a lot to learn," he admitted.

"You got that right. Why not hitch a ride back with us when this is all over? Green is coming along to talk to our director. I could show you the ropes around the GDA."

Marky's mind momentarily went numb. "Director? GDA? Oh my god. Do you guys have a cool HQ?"

Clearly Marky was even more clueless than Monster Girl had first suspected. She suppressed a sigh that Marky saw anyway. "Jesus Kid... Don't make me regret this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe I made a "green" pun and kept it.


	3. Surrender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blah blah blah set-up for future stuff bear with me

**Surrender**

* * *

"This place is awesome," said Marky, turning in a slow circle.

The team's transport had taken them all the way to Washington D.C., though Monster Girl hadn't been keen on giving Marky that bit of information. It'd landed in a large, underground hanger area, that then opened up into a vast network of sprawling hallways. Marky was awed by it all. He'd yelled in the cavernous hanger just to hear the echo, and had stopped to gape at the labs and cells seen through one-way glass.

"Are we really under the Pentagon?"

Muttering scientists and agents attempted to navigate around Marky. Sometimes they bumped shoulders with him, and Marky heard a murmur of "Damn kids" as one passed. Monster Girl patiently tugged on his arm to get him moving again. He stumbled after her, indifferent to the inconvenience of others. There was so much to see!

"Yes, we're under the Pentagon. But keep that to yourself, alright? I'm already breaking protocol by bringing you here without prior approval. Usually we'd go to our base in Utah, but we needed to drop off Gridlock for questioning first."

"And Green? Is he a prisoner too?"

"For the moment," she admitted. "It'll be up to our director to decide if his story holds water."

Marky nodded his head and kept it lowered, trying not to show any obvious signs of distress. His mind fretted over his newfound friend. Had Marky done the right thing, telling him to surrender? As his mind roiled over this subject, something occurred to him, a potential oversight.

"Can't he just go intangible and phase free?"

"Out of his cell, yes, but we have special force fields above the building for that. 'Implemented them after a villain called Embrace possessed Outrun one time. If he tries to escape, he won't go far," she explained.

All of the sudden Monster Girl's shadow wasn't quite as massive. Marky snapped his head back up to see that she was half her usual size. Shorter, smaller. Before his eyes she began to change. Her pebbly-green hide softened into pink flesh, and her massive arms withered into more human proportions. Even her clothes changed, from a black leotard, into leggings and a tank-top. Around her waist rested a big belt with a clunky middle piece. The final touch came in the form of hair, long locks somewhere between light brown and dirty blond.

"I'm Amanda," said Monster Girl, shaking his hand.

Marky was hit with a burst of deja-vu. His eyes widened in alarm, though the goggles hid the effect. What was with all these superheroes telling him their real names? Wasn't there some sort of code against it?

"Um..."

Having read his reaction, Amanda rushed to reassure him. "There's enough Amandas out there for it not to matter. Besides, most of my family members are dead. I outlived them. There's nobody else I care about except Monax and my team."

Her words did their job well. Already Marky was feeling more comfortable around her. There was just something in the way she spoke, a confidence and calmness that reminded him of his grandma. He deflated and flashed a tiny smile. "Oh. In that case, nice to meet you, Amanda."

"You too, Kid," she returned. Somehow, Marky believed her.

Just then a scientist that was substantially larger than his peers passed them. At least, Marky _assumed _he was a scientist from his lab coat and clipboard. Almost immediately he caught and held Marky's attention, and not just on account of his height. For one thing, the scientist's skin was _blue. _He walked barefoot, and was nearly level with Amanda's monster form.

Amazed, Marky began to drag his feet. Then things got stranger. While Marky was watching the first scientist, a second bumped into him from behind, identical to the first. At the last second, the cursing blue scientist stopped himself from bulldozing straight over Marky. Their eyes met through Marky's lenses, and slowly, Marky saw the blue man pale. Covering the side of his face, he stumbled swiftly away.

Monster Girl must've noticed him lagging behind, because she was at his side again in an instant. Slightly hurt by the scientist's retreat, Marky turned to her. "Did I do something wrong?"

"You? No. Don't mind him. That's just one of the Maulers," said Monster Girl with a shrug.

"Oh." Marky jolted in recognition at the name. "I read about them a bit."

"You would've, yeah. They were quite the offenders back in the day."

"Why'd he act like that? I haven't even met him."

"In that costume you look a lot like your dad... and uncle. Bad memories is my guess," Monster Girl said mysteriously, guiding him onwards again.

"Oh..."

Now the encounter was starting to make more sense. Still, Marky couldn't help but chew over Monster Girl's words. With every explanation she gave him, twenty new confusions replaced the old. His desire to know more was at odds with his desire to be respectful. The last thing Marky wanted was to pester one of his heroes. And so, he said nothing. Amanda must've been undergoing a similar conflict, because she eventually turned her head to consider him.

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you here anyhow?"

"Because you brought me here?" Marky answered confusedly.

"No, no I mean, _here,_ on Earth. Why would Eve agree to leave you here alone?" Marky could tell she was doing her best to not sound condemning or accusatory.

"Eve isn't my mom."

"Ah," said Monster Girl delicately, dropping the subject.

Before Marky could ask any more questions, she led him into a room that took both his breath and words away.

They were in a world of white. Everything from the outside had simply... stopped. Nothing else existed except for them. Formless alabaster was all around them. There were no walls, no floor, and no roof. Just white. It was like stepping into a blizzard, one where the dividing line between sky and snow was lost amongst the storm. Though Marky could feel the pull of gravity, there were no visual aids to indicate what was up or down. With a dull slam, the door closed and disappeared into nothingness. All he could see was Amanda, and he latched his gaze onto her for comfort, even holding her hand as an anchor. He felt that if he should let go, he might fly away, forever.

"It's fine," Amanda assured him. "Sorry, I guess I forgot how strange this place can look for the first time. We call it The White Room."

"You don't say?" whispered Marky, stepping away in embarrassment. The name was certainly appropriate.

He could hear things now. The world was not nearly as empty as it appeared. Human voices rose and ebbed around him. Footsteps faded in and out, and Marky jumped from a nearby shuffle of papers. Amanda shouted something and the white fell away like a curtain to reveal the reality beyond.

Where before there'd been endless emptiness, there was now bustling activity. The place was packed with people—scientists, mostly, but also engineers and other workers. One or two superheroes lounged about, doing who-knows-what. Scattered about were strange shooting ranges, a type of energy generator, and... a cage with a blue cow in it?

As far as Marky could tell, a lot of the work revolved around weapon testing. However, there was so much happening that it was impossible for Marky to take it all in. _Too_ much. Overwhelmed, he never even noticed the man on his left.

While Marky was distracted, A bespectacled scientist shuffled up beside him. In his hands he held a small black box, plain and inconspicuous, but cradled with the utmost care. A wide smile was plastered on his face, overly friendly to the point of overkill. His name tag read "Dr. Turner". Slowly, the smile split, lips forming words instead of empty grins.

"Kid-Invincible? My department heard you were coming in. I was told to offer you this if I saw you."

Slightly unsettled, Marky smiled back. He was not yet accustomed to being recognized by strangers, and he was less used to random gifts. "What is it?"

Lighting fast, Dr. Turner flipped open the box. Even leaning over, Marky had to squint to discern its contents. Resting at the bottom was a glinting... thing, no bigger than the very tip of Marky's pinkie finger. It was a circular chunk of metal, containing many complicated components that Marky could scarcely make out. There was something familiar about its shape though. Upon further inspection, he saw a small speaker built into it and realized it was an earpiece. Dr. Turner was speaking again, as if from a distance.

"It's the latest model. All our field employees wear them permanently. If you'd like, we can put you under right now and get you outfitted in a jiff."

All Marky could do was blink dumbly. Dr. Turner could talk as fast as he moved. He'd heard the proposal, but hadn't quite taken it in, hadn't quite comprehended it. In entering his ears it'd bypassed his brain.

Employees?

Permanently?

Right _now?_

"On whose authority was this?" interrupted Monster Girl tersely.

Not expecting to be met with such hostility, the scientist stuttered, "The o-orders were from Mr. Immortal himself."

"Did he give them in _person_?" she pressed. "Did you _see _him?"

"N-No, but the message we got was very clear, and everything _looked _legitimate."

Monster Girl grunted, as if confirming something to herself. "Kid? You're not taking that."

"I'm not?"

"_No._ You're not. Come on, I have to talk to Immortal."

Bemused, Marky let her tug him along, casting an apologetic "sorry no thank you," to Dr. Turner on their way out. He was completely in the dark, and not just because they'd left that bright room behind. He'd heard of The Immortal, of course. Everyone had. But the rest of Amanda's behaviour was a mystery to him.

Once more they were weaving through the halls, heading deeper and deeper into the heart of the Pentagon's underground. To speed things along, Amanda shoved Marky up front. Her hands guided his shoulders, gripping him with an inexplicable protectiveness. The lanes were a lot less congested now. They ducked around a corner and through a door into a sort of corridor. It was bathed in red light and off to the side of the main hallway. At the end of it was yet another door.

Three things happened in quick succession. Marky took a step, the door slid open, and he slammed into a hard chest—much harder than a human chest _should've_ been. Reeling back, Marky stared at a neat, black-and-white suit. The front of it was only slightly ruffled from the collision. Someone spoke above him, but in Marky's daze he didn't see the person's face.

"Sorry, son. You're not supposed to go in there."

Gradually Marky's vision cleared. He lifted his eyes. In front of him stood a man, neither tall nor short. Sturdy. His face was weathered with subtle lines, and his eyes were hard coals. No, not quite black. There was a hint of blue in them, like icy blocks. His pupils seemed to stretch on forever, like two unlit tunnels. For Marky, however, his most defining feature was his beard. It grew like a wild bush from cheek to cheek, sideburn to sideburn. Like the rest of his hair it was black, tinged grey on the edges.

This was The Immortal.

Recognition dawned on The Immortal's face, fresh wrinkles springing onto smooth skin. "Say, that's a Rosenbaum costume if I ever saw one. Kid-Invincible, right?"

The man's voice was paradoxically gritty and enunciated, like he could swear like a sailor or deliver a perfect speech, depending on his mood. Moreover it sounded both young old, not quite one or the other, but somewhere in the middle. Most of all it was intimidating.

When Marky didn't answer right away, the man carried on, commenting, "I have a son and daughter just a few years older than you-"

"Sir," Amanda cut in. "We need to talk."

The Immortal seemed surprised, jerking his head back and to the side. "About...?"

Whatever Amanda was going to say was cut short when she remembered Marky was there. He could see her glance at him out of the corner of her eye, mouth opening then closing, reconsidering.

"Not in front of him?" the Immortal guessed.

Marky didn't need any more encouragement. '_You brought me here!'_, he wanted to say, but he kept his protests to himself. He knew when his presence was unwanted, and more importantly, he knew how to deal with adults. Better to comply and eavesdrop, than to complain and be sent home.

Sulking, he stepped just outside the first door to give them some space. Even from here he could hear snippets of their conversation. At first it was only every other word, but as Monster Girl's temper rose, so too did her tone of voice. Sometimes, when he was sure they were distracted, he'd catch discreet snapshots of their expressions from over his shoulder.

"...Telling you, it's him. Every year he finds new ways to overstep, ...bypass security walls..."

"-suggest I do?"

"Shut him down?" Amanda replied as if the answer was obvious, but Immortal just stared at her, half-shocked and half-dismissive.

"...don't really mean that. Besides, we rely... too much, especially for intel organization."

"And that's the _point-_!" she started to scream, though she calmed down in time for her following point. "You've let his leash go loose. Hell, he could be overhearing this conversation right now."

"Nonsense. ...Only access he has to outside information is what we send..."

"If he's sending out official messages around here, then who's to say how much control we have?"

A pregnant pause permeated the air, so heavy that Marky felt it from all those feet away. Straining his ears, he was barely able to catch the Immortal's response.

"I'll have an IT guy look into it."

"You do that," finished Monster Girl coldly.

And just like that, the encounter was over. Marky pretended to be interested in a control panel near the door, blinking innocently at the superheroes when they walked towards him. Monster Girl idled next to him, but the Immortal kept walking, proceeding past them on some private mission that Marky couldn't descry. Monster Girl was the first to break the uneasy pause.

"And that's the tour, essentially. 'Cept we skipped the training rooms."

"You train together," said Marky, hidden eyes overflowing with envy. It was less of a question and more of a statement. All of his curiosity at her private conversation shifted to this new development.

"Mhm. Sometimes here and sometimes in Utah. There's even a bench press somewhere that was designed specifically for your father. 'Has magnetic "weights" and everything."

Any mention of Marky's other father never failed to grab his attention. It was a strange relationship that they had. When Marky was young they'd been fairly close, a few first bumps in the road notwithstanding. Then as Marky got older, things started to change. Mark got busy and showed up less and less. The frequent visits of the past now varied from every few months to annually. The older Marky became, the more guarded his father grew, too. Somehow the distance only served to escalate and strengthen Marky's idolization, perhaps to an unhealthy extent. He treasured every undiscovered tidbit of his Invincible's history, coveting the highs and secretly cherishing the lows. His father's humanizing failures helped Marky feel more competent himself.

"Can I see it?"

"You bet. In fact, I think it'd be a good idea for you to come train with Monax and I sometime. If you're up for it," she added, staring at him with the same transient intensity as she had in her monster form.

Marky often felt like he was being studied around her. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but certainly in an unsettling way. A lot of the more seasoned superheroes gave him that vibe. All except Green. With Green, he'd felt placid, peaceful, and at ease. There was no judgment forthcoming from him, no doubts, and no hidden fears.

The choice was obvious. From the day he got his costume, Marky's main goal had been to be a good superhero. No, not just good. Not just tough, either, but invincible. He wanted to help people, to save lives, to get stronger, to have his name in the news, and to have both of his dads' approval. Most of all, Marky wanted to be more like THE Invincible. If that required a little extra work on his part to get there, then so be it.

"Yeah... yeah I'm down- er, up for it," he stuttered in a failed attempt at professionalism. He'd tried to shrug off his excitement but found it impossible. Luckily Monster Girl didn't call him on it.

"Do you need us to drop you off somewhere? Give you a teleport?"

"Nah I can fly- wait, you have a _teleporter_?"

* * *

**/**

* * *

Marky requested that they drop him off on the coast, close enough for a short flight, but far enough to ward away any suspicions. Monster Girl already knew his home state, along with whoever else that helped her come to that conclusion. He didn't need a repeat of that with the teleporter's technicians and operators, or anybody with access to the 'port location records. Too many people knew too much already.

Dad would've been disappointed. _Both _dads.

And speaking of disappointed dads... Scott would not be happy to see him return at this time of night. It was pitch black out. Ocean waves like oil roiled and boiled beneath him. Between the brawl with Gridlock, the ride to the Pentagon, and the tour, Marky must've been gone for hours.

Heart pumping with urgency, Marky flew for shore. In his rush he felt a fleeting familiarity with the landscape. His dad had taken him here once, a long time ago. Or that's what he thought, at least. The memory was old.

As the cliffs grew in stature, something caught Marky's eye. He slowed, then screeched to a stop altogether. A glint in a cave that he could've sworn wasn't there before... Intrigued, Marky bit his bottom lip. This warranted an investigation, no matter how late the hour.

He dropped to level himself with the distant opening, hovering forward until he could set his boots on salted rock. The mouth of the cavern loomed in front of him, swelling as though it might swallow him whole. There was no glint to be seen. A dark tunnel stretched on before him, seemingly endless, not unlike the Immortal's eyes. A cold shiver ran down Marky's spine. His hands were clammy in their gloves, and he had a severe case of the jitters.

Having lost interest in the face of his fear and foreboding, Marky abandoned his investigation. He took to the air with a tad too much hastiness and resumed his former flight home. If there had been anything in that cave, it was gone now. Perhaps Marky's eyes had been playing tricks on him. It could've been a shiny sea rock, or a lowly piece of trash, stashed by a gull. A pop can, maybe. Either way, it wasn't worth the time he'd wasted.

Even still, Marky couldn't shake the strange sensation of being watched... The feeling faded the further he got away, but a part of it lingered in his bones, always nagging at the back of his skull.

Minutes later, Marky began to near his house. He could see light streaming out of some windows on the lower levels. For one, cowardly moment, he considered going to his grandma's. Problem was, she'd probably send him straight home. Grandma Debbie was one of Marky's favourite people and closest confidantes, but she was even more strict than Scott sometimes. Sympathetic, but strict. Mark was lucky to have grown up with her as his mom.

Or with any mom, really.

Although the lights were on in the living room, Marky didn't see anyone inside. It was possible that his dad was out. Scott used to be a full-time nurse, but after becoming a single parent he'd started to take fewer shifts, relying on Marky's grandma for babysitting whenever he got called in. Marky landed on the front steps, peeked in from the half-opened door, and saw no one again. Hope flared in his chest, a hope that was crushed three steps into the house. His father's voice stopped him mid-stride and Marky cringed.

"Bit late to be breezing in."

Collecting himself, Marky turned to face his father. Scott sat in the recliner, an open book resting on his knee. Rather than immediately scolding Marky, he waited patiently for a reply.

"About that..."

Scott's eyes peered at him over the frame of his glasses. "Your friends called earlier because they wanted to come over tomorrow. I had half a mind to tell them you were grounded."

Marky stood still, but inside he was squirming. Guilt stabbed at him from multiple fronts. With all his superhero activities he didn't have as much time for his friends from school. He'd forgotten that Ruby and Ben wanted to hang out.

Before Marky could speak, a second, higher voice drifted down the stairs.

"Is that Marky?" His sister's head peeked around the wall, big eyes blinking as she stepped into the light. Molly. It didn't take long for her to get her answer, regardless of Scott and Marky's muted response.

"You're home!" she cried, rushing in for a hug. Quietly chuckling, Marky let her collide into him. He couldn't be happier to see her, especially now. The next sentence out of her mouth was one that Marky heard often, and the one he'd been waiting for. "Can we go flying?"

"Of course we can go for a quick flight," Marky replied hastily, clinging to the request like a lifeline. Anything to get out of a lecture. To his dismay, his dad wouldn't let him deflect.

"Oh no, you're not dropping this that easily. Molly? Bed, now."

"But I wanna ride!" Molly cried.

"_Now._"

Molly bolted back upstairs, stamping her feet all the while. Once again Marky was left alone with his father. He was able to avoid talking until Molly disappeared from view. Then, Scott's voice drew him back to the current situation, reviving their previous conversation.

"Are you aware that it's an hour past your curfew?"

"I... lost track of time."

It wasn't a total lie. He really _had _lost track of time, though some of the fault was his own for not doing so.

"Just like the last ten nights?" Scott challenged.

"You..." Marky swivelled his head, grateful to his mask for hiding the surprise on his face. "You knew?"

"What, you think I don't check on you in the middle of the night? I _see_ that your bed is empty. Frankly, I'm offended that you thought the ol' pillows trick would work on me."

Under the fabric of his mask, Marky's skin felt like a furnace. He flushed, voice dropping with shame. "Well why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I figured you had a good enough excuse for sneaking out. But global disasters don't just happen every day." Although Marky wouldn't look at him, Scott's words hung in the air and pierced deep into his eardrums, unwavering. "Marky... this has to stop."

Suddenly Marky was on the defensive again, snapping, "Just because the world isn't always about to end, doesn't make any of what I do less important."

"I didn't say that," Scott countered calmly.

"People depend on me, Dad!"

"No, not just you. You're a growing boy in school. You need to focus on _that, _and you need your sleep," said Scott, infuriatingly reasonable beneath his son's verbal assault. Somehow he stayed stern without ever really raising his voice.

"I'm not a normal boy though!" Marky's answering retort was stacked with exasperation, causing each word to come out clipped. "I'm a Viltrumite. I can do things other people can't, and the only way I can learn to do them well is by doing what my dad and granddad did. It's what they would've wanted."

For a few uncomfortable moments Scott sat in pensive silence. He was never one to dismiss Marky's opinions, only contemplate them. Marky loved and hated that about him. It'd be so much easier to feel victimized if his dad would just _yell _at him once in a while. Instead, Marky always came across as a whining child, and maybe he was. Just as Marky started to fidget, Scott lifted his head, holding his ground.

"I may not be some super-powered alien, but I know Viltrumite children aren't much different from human children, despite how much you put your dad on a pedestal. I _know _that your grandmother would agree with me, and I _know _your mother wanted you and Molly to have regular Earth lives."

The mention of Marky's mother made his throat tighten. His dad had deployed his greatest weapon, and Marky's greatest weakness. All of his will to fight fled like water down a drain. Exhaustion hit him like a train and his shoulders sagged.

"Just... Can we talk about this in the morning? I'm tired."

Scott scrutinized him in silence. He took in his posture, the scuffs on his outfit from an earlier fight, and the contrite air hanging over his head. Moments passed as he mulled over Marky's request. Finally, he relented.

"Fine. But we _will _talk about this."


	4. Masks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway watch me write Marky's POV as progressively more edgy.

It was morning.

Marky woke early, but made a point of feigning sleep for another hour. He laid in bed, unmoving. Even his open eyes were unmoving. He fixed them on the wall and ignored their growing soreness. No doubt they were veined red.

His dad had to be awake by now, awake and waiting. The thought was enough to churn his stomach.

Last night's lecture still burned in his mind. Marky knew he was doing the right thing, following in his other dad's footsteps. He knew it for a fact. That self-assurance hadn't stopped the shame from creeping up his toes and into his cheeks. Scott knew just how to make Marky second-guess himself, the right methods, the precise buttons, all designed to guilt-trip him.

And did he _have_ to bring up Marky's mom? Even now that loss was a sore spot.

It was a difficult situation all around. Marky didn't _want_ to disappoint his dad, but at the same time, he no longer saw the sense in attending school. Not like his dad did anyway. He liked school well enough. Liked his teachers, seeing his friends, and the general experience of learning. Though with his powers... did he really _need_ to go? Long division and exponents could wait. Saving civilians and beating bad guys couldn't.

His growing dismissal of school was something that reminded his grandma of Mark. _"After high school he just didn't see the point_,_"_ she'd scoff affectionately whenever he came to her with these complaints. _"You sound a lot like him back then. At least _he _knew how important that diploma was, though. So you won't be getting any sympathy from me."_ It wasn't a part of Marky's personality that he was proud of, but neither one that he was ashamed. The adults would understand, one day.

Sure, he didn't think it was the time to outright _quit_. He still wanted to graduate. But were a few late nights and the occasional cut period really cause for concern?

It was time to face the music. If Marky didn't stop stalling he risked Scott coming up the stairs to pontificate at his bedside. Reluctantly, Marky kicked off his blankets and rolled off the mattress. He caught himself in a lazy hover before hitting the carpet, then casually righted himself. His costume still laid in a haphazardous pile from last night, abandoned by the foot of his bed. Marky didn't bother to change and descended the stairs in his pajamas.

Scott was already at the kitchen table. There were two bowls of untouched oatmeal, both long cold. Pancakes too. Marky's stomach clenched again. Behind him the news channel ran its morning stories. When Marky walked in Scott reached for the remote and muted the TV. Everything went silent. Except for them, the kitchen felt entirely empty. Instead of counter-tops and tile, Marky pictured white walls and one-way mirrors.

Marky felt like he was walking to his execution. Each step was an uphill struggle, weighted like the chains on a prisoner ascending the gallows. Scott just sat and waited. His face was solemn but soft, and in it, Marky found the courage to sit across from him. This was his father, not some hooded hangman.

"Good sleep?" Scott asked.

Marky shrugged. "OK."

"Did you think at all about what I said?"

Marky's wince did not go unnoticed. Truth be told, he'd tried to forget. If only he'd been successful.

When Marky didn't immediately respond, Scott continued, "School from eight to three, and a simple curfew. I don't think that's unreasonable."

Those terms _sounded_ good on paper, but crime didn't exactly adhere to an 8-3 schedule. Sometimes it did, but then there was the matter of nights... Although Marky didn't verbally disagree, the slight creasing of his eyebrows spoke otherwise. Scott replied with a furrowed forehead.

"Do we have to do this all over again?"

"No." That was the last thing Marky wanted.

A hint of warning crept into Scott's voice. "Maybe I need to throw a grounding into the deal?"

"No..."

"Good. So we're in agreement?"

Marky was about to respond when something on the television screen grabbed his attention. Though there was no sound, he could see the agitation on the anchor's face. The video feed switched to a helicopter view of what looked like a derelict plaza. _"GUARDIANS OF THE GLOBE ENGAGED IN DAKOTA FIREFIGHT" _slowly scrolled beneath the images. Marky latched onto that headline like it was a lifeline.

Just then Scott switched off the TV entirely, but it was too late.

"I gotta go," Marky blurted, but Scott cut him off before he could budge.

"Don't you dare. Those people are professionals. They can handle it."

"What if they need my help!" said Marky, voice high and panicky. He wanted to help, but more than that, he wanted to _escape_. And here was the golden opportunity.

"I'm sure they don't need a twelve-year-old this one time."

They were at an impasse. A showdown or shootout, just before the bullets went flying. Except here there were no bullets, and right now, in Dakota, the bullets were _real_. Silently, Scott stared him down. Marky returned the stare, muscles tense, like a cobra coiled to strike.

And then he was gone, the wind from his departure tossing plates and pancakes up behind him.

* * *

**/**

* * *

Marky burst into existence above the abandoned mall.

He'd been moving so fast that he barely registered the broken sound barrier. The second sonic boom startled him, however, and he screeched to a stop. This was no time to be stupid. Now was the time for _stealth_, for the element of surprise.

Looking down, it was impossible to tell whether the place was a construction site or a demolition site. The whole area was a cluster of structures and equipment. Maybe it was meant to be a mall. Some buildings seemed half-finished. Others sat in varying states of disrepair. He could spy a couple of vehicles parked around the premises, strewn about like discarded toys. In contrast to the dull paint of the earthmovers and the rusting trucks sat the Guardians' of the Globe shining transport. It was a strange sight amidst the shells of all those stores, either scarcely started or partially destroyed. Even without the ship's presence, the scene felt... _off_. Odd. Eerie.

The main section of the mall appeared utterly condemned, and that was where the fighting was most concentrated. Marky caught a glimpse of green skin. Monster Girl's hulking form drifted between piles of uprooted cement. An orange-white blur blazed past a group of gunmen, and their stream of bullets ceased. Outrun. From what he could see, the Guardians were making quick work of their opponents.

But why involve the Guardians of the Globe at all? That was the main mystery on Marky's mind. As far as he knew, the team was only sent out for very special and catastrophic circumstances—serious stuff that required their expertise. Super-powered bad guys, alien invasions, dimensional rifts, and the like. A bunch of men with automatic weapons seemed a bit below their pay grade, but then again, maybe Marky had misjudged them. Maybe the government's idea of what constituted a major threat wasn't that different from the average American's.

Or maybe, there was something else going on, some ulterior motive or unseen significance.

No one had started shooting at him, despite the volume from his entrance earlier. So far, so good. After another short survey from above, Marky descended betwixt two dilapidated buildings. He ducked behind a crumbling wall, but backed up a bit when bullets pelleted the other side.

Evidently he'd been noticed.

Marky had been shot at once or twice before. He didn't enjoy it then and he sure as hell didn't enjoy it now. He _hated_ guns. It was irrational, really. They couldn't hurt him. And yet, he couldn't help but find them cruel, a feeling that was reinforced by his first childhood experience with the cops.

A shout brought Marky back to the present, followed by another flurry of bullets. One rebounded and rolled to his right boot. He shrank back to stare at the small thing.

So much for the element of surprise.

Breathing in through his nose, Marky stepped out from the protection of the half-demolished wall. Bullets peppered his skin but left no marks. Marky flinched, but just once, his fear fading like the aftermath of a vaccine. Since they'd been so courteous as to aim for his face, it only felt right that he return the favour.

His attackers were one of the same groups he'd seen earlier, huddled like rodents around an outcropping of concrete rock. They were a few metres away at most, which was probably why they'd noticed him land. Marky jumped the distance as fast as somebody could teleport. One millisecond he was standing, and the next, his fist was through their concrete cover. It blew apart like a ruptured pillow, only the debris was not nearly as soft as feather stuffing.

Screaming, the men scattered, their composure and professionalism lost in the moment. Marky's fist followed them.

It connected with a spray of blood. At the last second Marky tried to pull back, but it was too late. The man dropped like a doll, his jaw hanging on by threads. Alive. A strange, inhuman sound wafted out of his mangled mouth.

Suddenly, playing superhero wasn't so fun anymore. The other men had since fled, but Marky stood stock-still. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't _breathe_. There was red on his exposed fingers, hot and coppery. In that moment, every fibre of him wished he'd stayed home with his dad. His only comfort was that the man had survived. Marky clung to that even as he moved to assist him.

Monster Girl's gruff voice roused him from his stupor. "Come on, Kid! Head in the game."

Marky didn't know when she'd shown up or how long she'd been fighting closeby. Regardless, she was right. He couldn't quit now. Not when he'd already committed, not when they were counting on him. Fight now, think later, _forget_ later, and wash his hands for good measure. Twice.

If he stopped, then that man might've been hurt for nothing. So he didn't stop.

The next few minutes were a blur. He remembered three figures fleeing the scene in search of cover. When Marky pursued them they began to shoot blindly. But of course, none of the bullets penetrated. They bounced off like rubber pellets, crushed bits raining down on the gunmen below. He flew high and stomped down on one man's back. Though Marky could feel him breathing under his boot, the man didn't get up. All at once, the rest dropped their weapons and dove for the ground, trembling in the dirt. Marky left them alone after that.

Next he breezed through a larger group and snatched away their weapons, one by one. They never had a chance to react. As Mark emptied the chambers of their ammunition, someone else fired at his face. He flinched, rattled. The bullet broke his left lens and bounced off his eyeball. Blindly, he lashed out with the back of his hand. An ominous _crack_ split the air, one that Marky didn't dare process. Nothing _looked_ broken, but then, who was he to know?

_No. Stop thinking about it._

Just then the tides started to change. It happened like the flip of a switch. Where once the men had been running or cowering, they were now _mobilizing._ Shouts mingled with metal slugs. Somehow there was order in the madness. They closed in as a unit, corralling him, cornering him. All sense of surrender had dispersed. In its place Marky found fierce resistance.

Everyone was now zeroed in on him. _Everyone._ Bullets seemed to be all around him, so many that he couldn't get his bearings. Everywhere Marky turned he ended up staring down the barrel of a gun. Desperate for an escape, Marky covered his face and shot upwards. At last, the bullets were less enough to be bearable.

Where had they all come from? And where was Monster Girl or the Guardians?

Marky hovered, pondering this quandary. For a short time he was safe. The air was calm and only the occasional bullet nicked his costume, barely noticeable after the earlier assault. He was able to _breathe _again.

The break did not last long. Something slammed into his shoulder. At first he only felt the force of it. Slowly, however, the heat set in. Searing pain exploded from his struck shoulder and trickled down like molten lava. Marky screamed, more out of shock than anything else. That had _hurt. _His nerves were on fire, and so too, he realized, was his costume.

Terror clouded his senses. In his desperation, Marky dropped like a stone, seeking the sanctuary of the ground. Instantly he rolled to smother the sparks. Dust billowed up around him and obscured everything. His costume still smouldered but the pain had passed. Now Marky felt nothing except for his fear. No one had ever hurt him before—not like _that_.

As the dust settled the shooting resumed. Marky batted at the bullets like flies before curling into a ball. The effort of fighting off the slugs was just as pointless as their act of firing them. Surely they would run out of rounds, and once they did, they would leave him alone. That was the hope, anyhow. No sooner had Marky clung to this thought than the shooting stopped. Addled, he dared to peek out from under an arm.

A line of men had collapsed, their weapons in sizzling pieces beside them. There was hardly a mark on them. No bruises, no scorch marks, no debris, nothing. They'd simply dropped, like a ring of trees all felled at once. The rest of the men had backed off, heads twisting every which way. Almost like a mirage, a glint of green flitted across Marky's vision. After a few focusing blinks, he identified the figure.

"Didn't expect to see you again so soon, Kid," Green Ghost called.

Nor had Marky. Just yesterday he'd seen Green in cuffs. And now they were letting him fight with the Guardians of the Globe?

_I guess Green won them over, _Marky surmised. He was glad to see his friend again, in spite of his shock.

Marky's surprise had to be put on hold. In front of his own eyes, the viridescent hero swooped _through_ a group of gunmen. They went down like a wave, clutching at their chests. One screeched something. Marky caught the word "_cold_", but nothing else. Wherever Green's body touched, weapons became useless. Nothing seemed to harm him, either. He'd acquired a translucent quality that gave way to the backdrop just behind him. He was, like his namesake, nothing more than a ghost.

Within seconds the whole hoard was subdued. Marky should've been relieved, but half of him was unsettled. Green's effectiveness made Marky acutely aware of his own failings. His incompetence. Above all, he felt ashamed. He'd froze in the thick of the fight, and when things took a turn for the worse, a fellow hero had to bail him out. Like a baby.

What would his other dad think?

For once, Marky was grateful that he lived too far away to ever know.

A shadow loomed over him and he looked up, jostling himself out of these thoughts.

"You OK Kid?" Monster Girl squinted and kicked something by her foot. Marky followed her gaze and saw a type of firearm, though it was shaped more like a bazooka than anything. It was long, round, and glowing a hot orange on its open end. Over time the glow faded into nothingness, leaving Marky as cold and empty as the barrel itself. All that remained was a wisp of crisp smoke.

"M-1000 Solar-flare," Monster Girl grunted. "Surprised you shrugged off a direct hit like that. You Viltrumites are a hardy bunch, huh?"

"I guess," whispered Marky. The blemish on his shoulder spoke differently. He didn't know what could have powered such a weapon, but judging by its name, he could wager a guess.

In moments a second, similar shadow joined Monster Girl's. It was larger, and the sun outlined two antennae. Monster Girl's son, Monax. Unconsciously, Marky ducked his head. He hadn't realized that he'd had an audience.

"You're not used to fighting regular ol' humans, are you?" Monax observed conversationally.

That was an understatement. Marky's mind jumped to the men he'd maimed, the busted jaw, the blood, the _wail_... So much had happened in the span of minutes, things Marky might never forget for the rest of his life. Just the mere memory of it all sent shivers down his spine.

Still having troubles breathing, Marky gasped, "I could've killed that guy."

"It happens sometimes," Monax admitted heavily. "My advice? If you can't handle it, head home."

"I can handle it..."

"Good, because if you ask me, you didn't hit that guy hard _enough_."

With that parting remark, Monax left him. Marky was less than assuaged. But just then, Monster Girl showed to lift him out of his low. She spoke with a compassionate tone that was at odds with her fearsome appearance.

"Look, kid, don't mind him. I saw the dude. He's going to be fine."

"Really?" Marky said with some hope.

"Oh yeah. With the technology they have back there? The replacement jaw they make him is bound to be an improvement. Don't even worry about it."

And Marky _did_ stop worrying. Just like that. He felt better already, and communicated that to Monster Girl with a weak grin. For now he could forget about it, pretend if needed. All was well in the world again.

"Thanks, Am-Monster Girl," he said sincerely. "Who were those guys?"

For a while it looked like Amanda might not answer... only for a little while. "Those men aren't important. The man they were working for, Mr. Liu, _he's_ the one that matters."

"Who's Mr. Liu?"

"One question at a time, God damn it," she said, breathing in sharply. Her previous patience must've been a fleeting phenomenon. Marky ducked his head, not daring to interrupt.

She went on, "Mr. Liu is a global crime boss. Old as shit. His preferred methods involve using super-powered people, and he has a few... tricks of his own. Lately, though, he's been losing a lot of his favourite agents, to competitors or to us after we arrest them. He must be more desperate than we thought to send these saps all alone..." The last sentence came out distracted, sort of amused, like she was talking to herself instead of Marky.

Hand half-raised to draw her attention, Marky asked, "Why send them at all? What did he want here?"

Monster Girl dragged her gaze back to him with a long-suffering sigh. This explanation was probably proving much longer and more complicated than she'd originally hoped. "Best guess? They were here to retrieve something from Dr. Ortiz's stash here. We just had a team sweep through the building, and this is one of his secret labs. We'll know what he was doing here and if anything is missing soon enough."

Looking like a deer caught in headlights, Marky stared, dumbstruck. The majority of this exposition had flown over his head. It was a lot of information to take in at once. With each answered question, ten more took its place. Almost afraid to ask anything else, Marky opened his mouth. Monster Girl was already moving away, so he asked the air instead.

"...Who's Dr. Ortiz?"

Even if she'd heard him, Monster Girl didn't reply. She was headed back to where the Guardians were gathered. Each of her steps was heavy with purpose. Marky scrambled to catch up with her, floating behind her ankles like a lost puppy dog. One other question had been pestering him, and he wouldn't wait for an answer to this one.

"Everyone ran away from me... until they didn't," he started, remembering how the men had rallied in the latter half of the fight. "Why is that?"

It'd been bothering him. Marky was just a kid. A superpowered kid, sure, but a kid nonetheless. He wasn't as high-profile as the Guardians, and he'd only joined the fight in its final quarter or so. There'd been something greedy in the way the men had singled him out. Something bloodthirsty.

Monster Girl's eyes closed. "If we're putting money on it, I'd say someone put a hit on you. Someone in high places. Maybe Mr. Liu himself."

Of all the responses Marky could've anticipated, this was not one of them.

"Me?!"

"It's not that surprising," she rumbled. "People will do all sorts of stupid shit for money. Your dad was never the most dedicated to fighting crime, but he did his fair share of damage, made a big dent in illicit business. Then _you_ show up... I'd be worried too."

Marky searched her face for traces of sarcasm, or anything to reassure him. But no, she seemed serious. Apparently Marky was already more important than he gave himself credit for. The idea of someone going to all that trouble, of putting down a sizable amount of money in exchange for his life... It felt ludicrous. Above all, though, the thought was _scary_.

Luckily, the sight of the Guardians washed away his unease. A few of them were in the middle of receiving medical attention. Watching them, Marky thought it might not be so bad to get some help himself. A bit of first-aid for his shoulder would be nice. Then again, it was just a minor wound, so small that it wasn't even worth mentioning. Besides, what would Amanda think?

Better to just let it heal on its own terms. It didn't hurt that bad anyway.

Now that the battle was over, the team was less spread out. Seeing them all gathered allowed Marky to absorb the full roster. It was a bit different this time around. For one, Vengeance was there, alongside his sister, Wraith. Pegasus was oddly absent. Marky looked to Monster Girl for an explanation, and she mouthed the word "date", eyes crinkling knowingly.

One of the more shocking sights was Darkwing. Marky hadn't expected to see him out in the field again so soon. The last time he'd seen the man, he'd been a wreck, and understandably so. Marky couldn't comprehend living in darkness for over a decade, all alone, save for the monsters. He seemed much more relaxed now, though his eyes darted around endlessly. He'd shaved since Marky had seen him last, and he was nursing a bandaged arm.

Then of course there was the newest addition of Green. He seemed almost at home amongst the rest of them, like an old relic restored to its rightful resting place. Nearby a G.D.A. employee was packing up the strange bazooka that Marky had dealt with earlier. Green stared at it intently, as if disturbed. He caught Marky's eye and floated over, leaving a green haze behind him as he moved.

"Sucks, doesn't it," he said, shaking his head at the weapon. "To be given that much power, and then to use it for money."

"Shame," snorted Monster Girl dryly. She didn't sound dismissive so much as unsurprised. With one last slap on Marky's back, she wandered away. Green watched her before grinning at Marky.

"So. How did I do?"

"You were _amazing_. I can't believe they let you out so quickly."

"Yep. The Immortal believed my story, more or less, and he let me come along and help as a sub. 'Said I should consider this a trial run, so who knows, maybe you'll see an announcement sometime soon about a new member..."

Marky beamed, but underneath he was boiling with jealousy. Deep down he knew they would never let _him _join until he was of age, or at least closer to. His only consolation was that Monster Girl seemed keen on welcoming him into the fold with open arms, unofficial status or not.

_And anyways, _he reminded himself. _Invincible was never _officially _on a team himself, really._

In the end, it always seemed to come back to Invincible.

* * *

**/**

* * *

By the time Marky made it back home, the morning was nearly over. It was much closer to noon. The car was in the driveway, which meant his dad was still around. He'd hoped, perhaps naively, that Scott might go out for work or groceries. No such luck.

With no desire to be harangued again so soon, Marky made for his bedroom window. Thus far the day was stressful enough, and he just wanted a bit of a break before continuing their earlier conversation. A nap would probably do him some good.

The window slid open smoothly and with hardly a squeak. Silently cheering his good luck, Marky clambered inside and practically tore off his mask. Having it off felt freeing, like tearing away a layer of stress-

Only to add another. From the moment the fabric left his face, Marky stiffened.

From his bed, Marky's two friends stared at him. Mind going blank, Marky somehow managed to stare back. Ben's back was as straight as a board, and his eyes bulged slightly. Beside him sat Ruby, looking much the same. For a few beats there was silence. None of them knew what to say, or even how to start. Not only had they lost their words, but their ability to speak. Then Marky's friends spoke in a combined voice that was too loud for his tastes.

"Marky?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oop.
> 
> It's up to you which "Dakota" this happens in because it really does not matter :")


End file.
